Moments In Time - When the World Stopped Turning
by AliyahNCIS
Summary: Summer 2009. Tony without Ziva.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I would recommend tissues for this story. My apologies that it's going up late. My mom is having a reaction to a medication she's on so I came to stay with her until my dad gets home from work. To anyone reading who does pray, I'd appreciate if you could say one for my mom - just that we'd get this all sorted out and that she'd get feeling better. Thanks :) Okay guys, here we go. Hold on, the ride is about to get very bumpy. ~Aliyah_

Ziva never called. A month went by and in that time the fleeting hope Tony clung to that she would change her mind slowly dissolved. Only once did he actually call Mossad and try to get in touch with her, and then he was told she was unreachable, which he translated to mean away on a mission. But Tony was never sure if that was the truth, Eli's way of keeping him from talking to Ziva, or her answer to a question he hadn't even asked yet.

Finally one day McGee came to him during lunch. "Tony, I think it's time we filled the empty chair."

His head jerked up and he nearly spilled the cup of coffee by his hand. "What? Why?"

McGee sighed. "It's been four weeks and I know you can't help being injured, but I'm tired of carrying the load and taking the brunt of Gibbs' personality in the field. We need a third person."

Tony rubbed his slowly healing arm and unfortunately saw the logic in his teammate's request. While he'd gotten permission to no longer wear the sling ten days ago, and had just been approved for light duty - which meant he could finally leave his desk when the team got a call - there were still a couple weeks left before he'd be cleared to carry a gun and participate fully in field work again.

He nodded once. "Right. Better ask Gibbs then. The files are all on his desk."

Tim leaned forward. "I know how close you and Ziva were Tony, but she's moved on. Maybe it's time you did as well." Tony's jaw clenched. McGee knew nothing about him and Ziva. The younger agent took the hint and stood. "We should talk to him together."

Tony gave a noise of assent and was left alone with his thoughts. To have someone else sitting in Ziva's chair, to have to look at another woman every day...if his existence wasn't miserable enough now it was about to get worse. But sulking wouldn't be fair to McGee and he'd have to get used to a change sooner or later. Still, he wished more than anything that it could've been later.

They broke the news to Gibbs on Friday just as they were getting ready to leave for a new case, and a stack of folders was dropped unceremoniously into Tony's hands. Once on the ship, Gibbs gave out orders and disappeared. Ducky sighed. "So many tasks, so few hands." He looked at Tony and McGee. "Have either of you two heard from Ziva?"

McGee shook his head. Tony wore a very serious expression. "No. You?"

The hope in his voice made Dr. Mallard feel even worse. "No. It's all so very sad. But I supposed the time has come to move on."

Having heard those words already that week, Tony wondered if twice meant something. "Yeah." But in reality he didn't agree at all.

**NCIS**

The first lady they interviewed on Monday was...intense. Tony was glad she didn't care about showing off her looks, because he'd only be thinking of Ziva if she did. Although in his ninja's case everyone took her seriously despite how exotically beautiful she was. They knew danger lurked behind the wild curls and smooth tan skin. He missed that every day. But their hands of steel candidate didn't pass the Gibbs test, so they were back to the drawing board and Tony couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed that she didn't work out. It would be near impossible to find someone to fill the chair and no other person on earth would be able to mimic the seamless flow of his and Ziva's former partnership, or how she fit into the team.

Another month sped past and finally a woman lasted long enough to qualify for a trial period. After observing an interview with her, Tony found Gibbs in MTAC wrapping up a briefing with Agent Dunham. The screen went dark and Gibbs turned to his senior field agent. "Well?"

Tony shrugged. "She's okay." It was impossible for him to be impartial. There would only ever be one woman who could qualify to be his partner. He gestured to the screen. "What was that about?"

Gibbs debated how much information to share. "Tracking terrorist training camps in the Sahara Desert."

Tony took that in and swallowed. "The uh, woman, the captive, any theory who she is?" The possibilities made him nauseous.

Careful to give what hints he could of what he suspected without actually saying anything specific, Gibbs tapped his fingers on the chair. "Dunham says Mossad presence in North Africa has increased."

Mention of Mossad had Tony's muscles coiling even tighter. "Prepping an offensive?" _Or a rescue? Please no_, he added in the same breath.

"Or course correction," the team leader threw out another option. "Cleaning up a failure."

Tony tried to breathe normally. "What kind of failure?"

Gibbs didn't like the implications either. "The kind with casualties."

"Is that all you know?" Gibbs smiled, a dead giveaway that something was up. "That's all you can tell me." Tony was forming his own theories and none of them were good.

A couple days later Tony and McGee were out for dinner, McGee chatting about work stuff and the new girl, trying to fill the uncharacteristic silence. "Seems like a pistol, or a firecracker." He thought through his adjectives. "Maybe a spitfire."

At that Tony got up and left, those words reminding him too much of the wife he'd probably lost for good by now, the partner who might never sit across from him again. Tim pulled a couple bills from his wallet to cover their meals and joined his friend, talking nonsense in an attempt to draw a reaction from Tony. Finally he spoke. "It's not normal that we haven't heard from Ziva. I mean, nothing, not in this much time. It's not normal."

McGee debated which side of the line he wanted to walk on. "Maybe she just wants to make a clean break of it."

Tony snorted. "Well, maybe from some of us, but not all of us." He repeated the words again, very insistent even if he was pretty sure he knew what category he fell into. "It's not normal."

Tim gave in. "No, it's not."

Tony felt better knowing it wasn't all just in his head. "Thank you." He leaned on the car and stared at his friend. "What if she can't contact us? What if something's stopping her?"

"Or someone," McGee added.

"Yeah." That's what he was afraid of. "I'm not the only one thinking this, am I?"

Tim sighed. "No."

Tony fiddled with the keys. "And you know Gibbs is thinking about it too. He's not talking because he never does, but he'd definitely sniffing around."

"So what are you going to do about it?" McGee probed.

"Everything I can," he declared. "I'm gonna start digging."

"Well," Tim reached for the door handle, "you can't do it alone."

Tony frowned. "You gonna stop me?"

McGee gave him a look. "That's not what I said."

For the first time in a long time Tony smiled a bit, hope building in his heart with the support of another person. "Thanks," he breathed quietly, getting in. They had a teammate to find.

**NCIS**

After a week and a half Tony and McGee were spinning their wheels, coming up with too many dead ends in their search and not enough threads to follow. Finally McGee pushed away from his desk. "That's it."

Tony's brow furrowed. "You're giving up?"

"No." He stood and headed for the back elevator. "I'm bringing in reinforcements."

Together the men traveled down to the lab and after braving the tongue lashing they deserved for keeping her in the dark, tried to explain their self appointed assignment to the forensic scientist. "We've been tracking Ziva's movements as best we can," McGee began.

Abby was in total focus mode. "Since when?"

"Since she stayed in Israel."

"And took Rivkin's place on the Kidon unit," Abby finished. They looked at her in puzzlement and she shrugged. "I've been doing the same thing." Abby started pacing around her lab, the guys dogging her every step. "I mean, it's weird that Ziva hasn't contacted me. It'd be one thing if she hadn't just picked up the phone and called me, but I've tried to reach her several different ways with no luck." She threw her hands up. "Ziva is universally absent and it's freaking me out."

Tim leaned back against the counter. "Alright, let's compare notes. We've got NCIS on the ground in Dubai trying to figure out what Mossad is up to."

"While Mossad's trying to figure out what some terrorist is doing," Tony continued.

"And somewhere in the middle of this is Ziva." Abby chewed on her lip. "I don't like it."

Tony sighed. "We know Gibbs thinks the director knows more than he's letting on."

"And no one is telling us anything," Abby finished, twirling one black pigtail. "So we have two options."

"And they're both illegal," McGee picked up her train of thought. "Hack into Mossad."

"Or hack into Vance." The new girl, who's arrived at the door to the lab just in time to hear the situation summed up, quit on the spot. And really, not one person in the room was sorry to see her go. On Team Gibbs they looked after their own, anyone who couldn't do that would never belong.

Two days later another woman showed up for an interview Tony forgot he'd scheduled, and in the five minutes he had to spend with her he did his best to scare her off, finally ending any hope she might've had by changing his mind about their hiring status. Now was not a good time to be throwing someone new into the mix, not when they might be close to finding the only person who would ever really belong at the desk beside Gibbs'.

That afternoon the wonder twins called him down to the lab for an update on their findings. McGee looked at him the moment he walked in. "We accessed Mossad's encrypted files and traced a trail of information back to what we found on that burnt laptop from Ziva's apartment."

Abby picked up the story. "As you know, Rivkin switched them out, and this one belonged to our terrorist Abin Tabul."

"Among other things," McGee continued, "it contained the location of a terrorist camp in North Africa run by one Saleem Ulman. Not a nice guy."

"So we gave that information to Gibbs, who gave it to Vance, who gave it to Eli David, and in turn he put Ziva and a team on a Jordanian freighter called the Damocles."

Tony had just taken a phone call about that a few hours earlier. "Out of Aqaba."

McGee seemed surprised that he knew. "Uh, right. Destination: the Horn of Africa."

Tony looked at them expectantly. "So where is it now?"

Tim shrugged. "I don't know."

"Find it," he ordered, turning away.

McGee crossed his arms. "We tried. There's no record of it docking anywhere after May."

Tony frowned. "Why not?"

Gibbs chose that moment to appear. "'Cause it was lost at sea." They all turned to stare at him blankly and he swallowed. "Damocles went down in a storm, twenty-eighth of May, off the coast of Somalia. There were no survivors."

All the oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the room as shock set in. "No," Abby whispered, searching Gibbs' eyes for some sign that it wasn't true.

At those words a door slammed shut in Tony's soul and he shut down right there. Without a word he walked out, his heart hammering frantically as his brain struggled to process the words that made his world stop. He walked up the stairs on autopilot and at his desk removed his gun, badge, and cellphone, depositing them in the top drawer. From the filing cabinet came a request form for bereavement leave that he filled out in short jerky strokes of a pen and placed on Gibbs' desk. He left his NCIS issued backpack on the floor behind his chair and looked around the bullpen with empty eyes.

Just as he was about to leave, Gibbs came around the corner and stopped. "Where's your head DiNozzo?"

Tony swallowed and barely met the man's ice blue gaze. "I didn't take the time with Kate, I'm taking it now for Ziva. If you don't like that, then fire me." He pushed past his boss. "It wouldn't matter any way."

For once without an answer, Gibbs stood there and let him go, then slowly read the request form and signed at the bottom to grant his senior field agent two weeks of leave. Taking a breath, he walked it upstairs to the director's office himself and dropped it in front of him. Leon chewed on his toothpick and looked it over. "Two weeks. That's a bit long, don't you think?"

Gibbs shoved his hands in his pockets. "His partner's dead, he needs it."

"Ex-partner you mean."

It was times like these that Gibbs got the overwhelming urge to punch his boss in the face. But right now Tony needed someone to go to bat for him and Gibbs was it. He clenched his teeth. "You know how close partners get Leon and this is the second one he's lost. DiNozzo deserves the time."

Vance picked up his pen and paused. "I always got the feeling there was more than just partners between those two."

Gibbs was adamant. "Not on my watch." He turned to go. "Sign the paper Director, we're all going to need time for this one." With that the team leader left, closing the door firmly behind him. He could only hope that Tony would find a way through his grief to come back when the leave was up. It would be so much worse if he lost both of them.

_Replies from Chapter 9 of MIT Part 3:_

_LuvZandT (MIT9) - Yeah, tears may be the appropriate response to the end of Part 3. I'm glad you liked them even if they weren't nice per se. I'm glad you could feel the emotions, I want them to be real. You are right about the deep waters that we are heading into. Thank you so much for your sweet comments, I really appreciate them. It does take a lot of time to get this stuff written, but I love it. These stories are in my heart and they're always playing on the background of my mind and I feel like I'm actually accomplishing something, even if it's just for fun. The next part is coming very slowly, healing is never easy or quick, especially in a scenario like this one. This review posted just fine, I hope your computer is behaving better now. Thanks for reviewing! :)_

_Taylor (MIT9) - I hate to say this, but I'm glad you felt that way. I want the emotions to be real so when they have an impact like that, I know it's working. I'm glad you're looking forward to more. I'm working on the next part slowly but surely. Thanks for reviewing! :) _

_gibbslovesjenny (MIT9) - lol...I find it hard to believe that a chapter like that made your week brighter, but I'm sorry things weren't going so well. I hope this week is better. I'd say at this point Z is all kinds of confused and hurt, both in her head and her heart. Unfortunately it will take an experience like the desert for her to be able to see the truth. lol...it would never be as obvious as all that, since the secret is kept at least until S9. Thanks for reviewing! :)_

_Sarah (MIT9) - Yes, it was painful to write as well. Mmm...a lot of those lines made me hurt for T and I think Z wasn't so much cold and emotionless as she was trying to hold herself together and therefore the walls had to be thick enough to keep anyone from reaching out. Them being married changes so much. You're not the only one to think that bathroom scene was about the worst it could get. To be perfectly honest, I don't think she meant it that way. She had to leave it behind because it would raise questions in Israel that no one thought to ask at home. But the impact of the gesture is the same. Wow - I was so mad at the end of Berlin! We got a real live moment and we were about to get more and then they ruined it! Grr...I was totally freaking out. Made me really glad I waited tho. Then there was next to nothing with T&Z in Revenge. I wish she'd let T go with her to the boat, I wished he'd realized it was stupid to leave her alone. I felt so bad when she was training while injured. I'm glad Bodner's dead and at least the way it happened it was self-defense, even if she wasn't supposed to be there. I'm anxious about next week and the end of the season, especially with Cote's status on the show as of yet undefined, but I hope they do justice to our characters no matter what. What did you think?_


	2. Chapter 2

When he looked back on that day, Tony would have no idea how he made it home alive. He simply put the car on the street and pointed it in the right direction, but he didn't remember turning, stopping at signs or red lights, or any of the other automatic actions that came with driving. One minute he was in the NCIS parking lot, the next he was sitting in the driveway facing the little yellow house that would never be home again.

He moved inside like he was wading through hip deep water and the first thing his eyes fell on was the picture of Ziva on the side table. She was leaning on the railing of a bridge at the park, smiling, head tilted so that her hair fell to one side in a rich brown curtain of curls. It was one of the few photos in which she was wearing her wedding rings, and the engagement diamond sparkled in the sunshine.

In two strides Tony had the picture in his hands and sank down on the couch. "Ziva," he whispered, feeling tears prick at the back of his eyes, "no," Tony repeated over and over, "no, no, no. Please God, no!" He clutched the frame to his chest, tears streaking down his cheeks, and leaving dark blotches on his pants. Tony rocked slowly back and forth, a low moan building in his throat. "Ziva!" he cried out, sobs wracking his chest and breaths coming in painful gasps as he returned to his broken mantra. "No...no...no...please...no."

A scene from a months old case echoed in his memory and he saw himself and Ziva in the breakroom at NCIS. He was promising her that his love was forever, that there would never be a without her because if her heart ever stopped beating, his would too. He slowly fell over to lay on the couch and the rest of the day faded away in the shadow of a grief so heavy Tony was surprised he could still breathe. Eventually he began begging God to make his promise to Ziva true. _Take me_, he thought over and over, _take me too. I don't want to be without her God, I can't. Please, just let me die_. That private plea circled round in his head until sleep finally claimed the emotionally exhausted man. There was nothing left now, everything was gone. No matter what happened after this, he was out of reasons to stay alive.

**NCIS**

For the next two days Tony barely got out of bed. He lay there, between the sheets they used to share, curled around a pillow that no longer smelled like his wife, with her picture watching him from the nightstand. Nearly every other breath brought tears, the crushing blanket of sorrow so heavy it was a feat just to lift his head. All he could think about was Ziva, all he could remember was Ziva, and almost every day of the too short two and a half years they'd spent together.

After that he got up, but never got dressed in any more than pyjamas, and pulled out every bottle of liquor he could find. Then Tony planted himself on the couch and got slowly, deliberately drunk, torturing himself with every home video clip he had of him and Ziva, laughing and happy and in love. When he got violently sick later that night from self-induced alcohol poisoning, Tony considered that part of his punishment. He never should have let her go. Screw her messed up head and the space she thought she needed, he should've jumped off the plane and dragged her home with them. At least in DC she would've been safe, even if they weren't together. And he would've had a chance to make things right.

Finally his stomach stopped rebelling and Tony weakly leaned against the wall, wiping his mouth with a nearby towel. He looked around, seeing Ziva's touch in everything from the wall colour to the hand towels to the matching soap dispenser and toothbrush holder. Sighing, he closed his eyes and momentarily debated with himself about if he should move or not. But the pang in his heart at not being here, in the house they'd filled with their love and memories, so real that he could almost imagine Ziva sitting in the corner chair of the office or stirring something on the stove or soaking in a bubble bath, made the decision for him. He'd lost his wife, there was no way he could leave all of this behind too.

After a restless night full of disturbing dreams where Ziva was always just out of his reach, Tony got up, showered, dressed, and shaved for the first time in almost a week. With a copy of the picture of Ziva that had barely left his sight since the first day in hand, Tony went to a local photography shop and ordered a plaque that would be half picture and half blank space. His second stop was to a craftsman he'd met in one of their many cases, where he commissioned an engraving on a rectangle of bronze that would fit on the plaque beside the snapshot of his wife. He debated for a long time what words he should use to describe everything Ziva was to him. In the end he just spoke from the heart.

_Ziva Miriam David_

_November 12 1982 - May 28 2009_

_Beloved Wife. Soulmate. Best Friend._

_Zi, I will miss you every day._

_I love you always - Tony_

He choked back the tears that wanted to come as he read the tribute one more time and handed it to the elderly Jewish man. Mr. Farber took the paper and read it, sorrow washing his brown eyes. "I'm sorry," he offered solemnly. "How long were you married?"

Tony sniffed and swiped a finger under his nose. "Two years, nine months, fourteen days."

Benjamin sighed. "It is always too soon to lose the one you love."

His jaw and fists clenched. "I didn't lose her. She was stolen away from me." The words came out harsher than he intended and Tony blew out a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just angry at the world right now." He moved towards the door but stopped and looked back. "Please, make it your best work. She deserves it."

The old man nodded. "I will my son. Peace be with you."

He scrunched his eyes closed, thinking again of the Hebrew language he would never again hear flowing off his wife's tongue. "Shalom," he muttered, walking out.

Unable to face going home right away, Tony soon found himself at a park, sitting alone on a bench watching happy couples and families with children parade by. In a way he was glad that he and Ziva hadn't ever gotten to the kids stage. The way he felt right now, he would never be able to pull himself together enough to care for an infant or toddler. And Tony also figured he wouldn't be able to handle seeing a living reminder of the love he'd lost every day for the rest of his life.

Not yet trusting himself to drive, Tony hadn't brought his car. Eventually he made his body move and slipped his hands in his pocket as he made the long walk home. He entered the house and was apprehensive to see the message light on the answering machine blinking. His brow furrowed. He could count on three fingers the people who had access to the number, not including telemarketers and automated phone calls to announce that they'd won a cruise or some such nonsense. Reaching forward, Tony accidentally pressed the 'rewind' button instead of play. The voice he'd despaired of ever hearing again filled the air and he all but stopped breathing.

"Good morning Tony! Either you have gone for a run or Gibbs kept you overnight for a case, but in any event I am sorry I missed you." He could hear a smile in her words. "I wish you were here ahava, I miss you very much. I will be home in three days and even though I love Aunt Nettie, I look forward to being in your arms again above all else. Smile when you think of me and I will try to dream of you. I love you Tony. Shalom."

A beep indicated the end of the message and Tony hurried to press the back button and listen to it again. All the tears from the first day he learned the news came back and he leaned over the counter, drowning anew in the wake of his loss. After a time he took a long, shuddering breath and wiped at his wet cheeks. He missed her so much, everything about her. He'd never imagined, not even when his mother died, that grief could be so raw and deep, that every time he thought of her it would feel brand new.

"I can't do this," he whispered, "I can't do this without you Zi. I don't even want to. Please God," Tony begged for the thousandth time, "please just take me too so I can be with my wife, please." But the only answer he received was the steady blinking red light on the answering machine. Trying to compose himself, Tony pushed the right button this time with a shaking finger and waited.

"Anthony?" His name was spoken in a voice he'd recognize anywhere. "Anthony, are you there? It is Aunt Nettie achyan, please pick up the phone." She waited a beat and sighed. "Very well, I will assume you are not there instead of simply ignoring me. But I want you to call me the moment you get this message, please. It does not matter what time, just please call me."

The line went dead and Tony glanced at the clock - almost five, which would make it nearly midnight in Israel. Still, even in his current frame of mind he knew better than to ignore Nettie David. With a sigh he grabbed the phone and closed himself into the office, settling into the corner chair as he dialed her number from memory. She picked up on the second ring, which told him she'd been waiting for his call. Still, she answered as if it might not be him.

"Shalom?"

Tony rubbed his eyes. "It's Tony Nettie, I got your message." He sighed and decided not to make her say it. "You know?"

The old lady sniffed. "Eli told me this afternoon. Oh achyan, I am so sorry."

His throat closed, making it difficult to speak. "I'm not family any more Nettie, not without Ziva. You don't have to do that."

Her tone took on an 'argue with me, I dare you' quality. "You will call me Aunt, Anthony. I do not care where your head is right now, but you will always be family to me." Nettie's words gentled. "You married her Anthony, you loved and cherished her. That makes you family. Thank you for bringing joy to my niece's life."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and choked out the truth. "It wasn't like that, in the end. I really messed up Doda."

Confusion coloured her tone. "What happened Anthony? Why was she here? Why did no one contact me?"

He dragged a hand down his face. "You know a guy named Rivkin?"

"Michael?" she queried. "Yes, of course, he was good friends with all the children. Practically family, another brother both to Ari and Ziva. What does he have to do with anything?"

Tony sagged against the chair. "He was here, in May, to see Ziva supposedly. But in his off hours he was on a Mossad mission, killing members of a terrorist cell we were trying to catch. He was drinking all the time, probably losing it a bit in the end. He set up Ziva to look as if she was involved so she'd have to be sent back to Israel." He clenched his jaw. "Your brother's orders."

Nettie spit out a string of Hebrew words Tony wasn't sure he wanted the translation for. When she calmed down, she returned to English. "I do not know him anymore." That was as good as Eli being dead and Tony didn't feel one bit sorry for him. "But tell me Anthony, what is it you did? I do not understand."

He closed his eyes and a lone tear ran down his cheek. "I doubted her," he whispered, "for a few seconds, a few minutes, maybe even a few hours I wondered if she was lying to me, I wondered if Israel held her allegiance over us." Tony leaned forward, elbows digging into his knees. "I failed her Doda, and she didn't know who to trust, so she stayed. And now she's never coming home."

"Oh Tony," Nettie sighed, slipping into the less formal use of his name, "this was not your fault."

Tony sat straight up. "Yes it is!" he insisted. "If I hadn't doubted her, maybe she could've still trusted me to have her back and then she wouldn't've stayed and been put on the stupid mission that got her killed." He shook his head. "I never got to say I'm sorry, we never got a chance to work things out." Pain stabbed through his heart like a knife. "I killed Michael in self-defense, but Ziva wouldn't believe it. She was going to leave me Doda, she said we needed a break. I would've done anything to get her back, anything," he repeated brokenly. Tony swallowed hard past the lump that had taken up permanent residence in his throat. "I miss her so much."

"I know," Nettie whispered. "I am deeply sorry things between you were left that way, but I also know how much you loved my niece and how much she loved you. I believe with all my heart that you both would have found a way to make things right."

He stared across the office at his desk, where a frame held a picture of him and Ziva together, laughing, his arms around his wife who was sitting between his knees. "I've got too much Catholic in me to kill myself, but I wish I was dead too."

Nettie gasped. "Do not dare to say such a thing Anthony! You are needed here."

Tony shrugged apathetically. "I can't help it. It's too hard to be here without her Doda, it hurts too much. I can't-I can't think of spending the rest of my life like this, missing her every moment from the time I wake until I fall asleep. And in my dreams she's always so close but so far away. I just can't do it."

Nettie shook her head. "I cannot lose both of you motek. You are all that is left of happiest time in Ziva's life. Please stop thinking like that."

"What are my other choices?" Tony demanded, angry at the last person who deserved his hostility. "What's the point in being alive when I've lost everything that was important, everything that mattered? Tell me why I should bother."

She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Because Ziva is not the only one who loves you. Time and again the two of you have told me of your family at NCIS, how important those people are to you. Can you not try for them and for yourself? To live a life that honours the love you and Ziva shared? Death cannot be the only choice that is left for you."

"I just don't care any more," Tony admitted.

Nettie's heart broke for the lost young man she had grown to love over the past two years. "If that is all you have left, I will come Anthony. And I will stay until you can find a reason to live again. I refuse to sit here waiting for news of your death as well. I too am tired of the losses of this life."

He worked his jaw. "You can't-you can't come. Eli-"

"What does it matter if he finds out now?" Nettie asked. "I will go where I am needed and you need more than a voice on the other end of the phone thousands of miles away. Please, let me do this for both of you."

How could he argue with that? Having no other excuses to throw up, Tony gave in. "I'm off work until next week, but you can stay as long as you want. Let me know when to meet you at the airport." He sighed. "I promise not to do anything stupid before you get here, after that you can talk me out of whatever I come up with."

"Your promise is enough," Nettie felt the tiniest bit of relief. "Expect me in two days. Be brave achyan, please. I love you."

Tony wiped at his wet cheeks with one sleeve. "Yeah, I love you too. And Nettie? Thanks."

She finally smiled. "My dear boy, you are most welcome."


	3. Chapter 3

With only two days until his wife's aunt came to stay, Tony took a good look around the house and realized he had a lot of work to do. Dirty dishes were stacked all over the counter, soiled clothes covered the floor in their room (he couldn't yet think of it as only his room), towels dropped on a chair in the bathroom, and the general dust and grit underfoot from two months where he'd had no motivation to clean. But now he did, and for Ziva he would do a good job. She was always proud of their little house, and he would show it off the way she deserved.

The day after their phone call Tony put on old clothes, pressed play on a CD of Ziva's favourite Hebrew music, and got down to business. He started with laundry, sorting it into the proper colours and doing load after load, including sheets and towels so there would be clean ones for Nettie to use. While the washer and dryer were running, Tony spent an entire Lord of the Rings movie washing every single dish, some of which were beyond disgusting and well on their way to being science experiements, and the next movie drying and putting them all away.

After that he turned attention to his least favourite chore - dusting. Every single surface in the house that could collect dust, including walls and baseboards, was so thoroughly cleaned that it would pass even the snobbiest white glove test. By the end of the day Tony was so worn out he fell right to sleep, but it was a blessing, because for the first night since he heard the news he didn't fall asleep shedding tears for Ziva. However, his hand was resting on her side of the bed in the morning, instinctively seeking out her warmth, his first thought to miss her laying next to him.

Tony opened his eyes and looked at the picture on her nightstand. "I would give anything to have you in my arms again babe, anything." Sighing, he made himself get out of bed, but no amount of willpower could convince him to eat even a bite of food for breakfast. With the grief sitting like a lump of lead in his stomach, he wondered if he'd ever be hungry again. Instead a glass of orange juice a few days too old would have to do.

The day consisted of folding slightly wrinkled laundry, vacuuming each room, and mopping the floors with more vigor than strictly necessary. When that was done, Tony got out the bucket of cleaning supplies Ziva kept in the closet and scrubbed the bathroom until everything sparkled. Windows were next, washed inside and out, and finally Tony could find no more to clean. He opted to go to bed early that night, having received a brief message from Nettie that her flight would arrive at eight am Wednesday. Tony spent far too much time laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, but when he finally closed his eyes he was left without even the energy to dream.

The alarm rang early and Tony did his best to get presentable, showering but not shaving because there was no one around to appreciate the result if he did. He dressed in freshly washed clothes and looked around, assuring himself that Ziva would approve of the job he'd done and hoping that Nettie would feel welcome, despite his certainty that he was not good company right now and perhaps never would be again.

Driving to the airport was the first time Tony had been behind the wheel in a week. He was nervous, the multitasking required almost more than he could handle in his current state of mind. He breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled into a parking spot near the main terminal - so far, so good. Checking the note he'd scribbled to himself, Tony picked up the pace and once inside found the right gate. Minutes later passengers began deplaning and he was painfully taken back to the last time he'd waited for someone at an airport, anxious to welcome his beautiful wife home after a week apart. Now he hadn't seen her in eighty-four days and the reunion he longed for would never happen.

Although she'd only ever seen him in pictures and on Skype calls, Nettie still had no trouble recognizing the solemn young man who stood with his back to a large pillar, scanning the growing crowd with eyes used to locating threats and calculating danger. She was almost in front of him before Tony noticed her, and then he swallowed and did a poor imitation of a smile. "Hello Doda."

She looked him over and reached up to put her hands on his scruffy cheeks. "Anthony." Her arms came around him and Tony hugged her a bit awkwardly. Ziva never mentioned how short her aunt was. "It is so good to see you."

He held her a bit tighter, the spunky lady who barely came up to his chest. "I'm glad you're here." He was, really, but this wasn't the way he'd wanted to meet her.

Nettie looked around for directions to the baggage claim and Tony took the carry on from her, an elegant, deep berry coloured bag that had been slung over her shoulder, resting his hand on her back to guide her through the crowd. They didn't have long to wait before the carousel began turning, and soon after Nettie pointed out two large suitcases, one blue and one green, in the same style as her carry on, each with a multi-coloured scarf tied to the handle.

"Those are mine."

Tony hefted them and grunted at the weight, setting them beside her. "I guess I kind of expected you to pack like Ziva." His wife was the epitome of packing light. He made a face. "Are you moving in?"

She didn't take it as a joke and serious dark eyes studied him carefully. "That is not out of the question yet. It depends on how much you worry me. For love of my niece I will do whatever it takes to help you through this. That is a promise."

David women promises weren't easily broken that he knew, except that Ziva promised she would never leave and she had, taking with her his heart and soul and will to be alive. Tony cleared his throat. "Let's get out of here."

He led the way to the car and opened the door for her, stashing her things in the trunk. When he got in Nettie turned to him. "I won't ask you how you are because I can see for myself. Tell me what I can do Anthony."

Tony held onto the steering wheel and leaned forward to rest his forehead there as well. "I don't know. Y'know, she's been dead for two and a half months, but the news is so fresh I feel like she's only been gone a week, as long as I've known."

She patted his knee. "It is very hard to have hope ripped away achyan, that I know from long experience. I wish I could take that pain away for you."

He shook his head and wiped his eyes. "I don't. It hurts because I loved her, I still love her, I will always love her," Tony explained. "If there was no pain it would mean I didn't care and she...deserves more than that."

Nettie's brow furrowed. "Will you mourn her forever motek, and never allow yourself another chance at happiness?"

His gaze hardened. "My chance at happiness is at the bottom of the ocean in a watery grave. So yes, I will mourn Ziva every day for the rest of my life because I don't know any other way to handle her being gone."

She pressed a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, a tear falling down her cheek. "Oh Anthony, I hope my Zivaleh knew how very much you loved her. She was so blessed to find you."

Tony shook his head. "No more blessed than I was, believe me." He let out a breath and looked back at her, feeling selfish for not realizing before. "I'm sorry Doda, I haven't even asked. How are you doing?"

Nettie fingered the delicate Star of David chain hanging around her neck. "I am very sad Tony. My heart is broken, both at the loss of my beloved niece and the burden of your grief. But I have lost everyone important in my life, every member of my family except my brother, in a way death is expected when you live in Israel. But I did not think I would be the last to live."

Tony sighed. "Your brother know you're here?"

She sat up straighter. "I am no longer speaking to him, and I do not care if he knows or what he thinks. Eli is a stupid man who threw away everything that mattered. I wash my hands of him."

"I'm sorry." And he was, in a way. With that decision Nettie really had lost everyone related by blood. He stared out the window. "Should we go?"

After a moment Nettie nodded. "Yes please. I want to see the home you and Ziva made together."

It wasn't a long drive and soon they pulled up in front of the house. Nettie gazed around and clasped her hands together, smiling. "What a beautiful place. Yellow, with flowers. Oh my little bird, you had a place of peace after all."

Tony looked at the myriad of blossoms. "Ziva had to have the brightest flowers we could find. And she wanted window boxes so she could see them every time she walked by."

Nettie nodded. "I am glad. Please, take me inside Tony, show me your home."

Getting the suitcases from the trunk, he let them in and gestured around. "This is it."

Taking off her shoes, the old woman began a slow wander through the rooms, finding a mixture both of the younger woman she loved and the man her niece had married. Finally she came back to him. "The two of you did very well. It is such a welcome place. And clean." She raised an eyebrow.

Tony slipped his hands in his pocket and shrugged. "Didn't really have a choice there. I wasn't going to let you see it the way it was when you called." He picked up the suitcases and motioned with his head towards the second bedroom. "Come on, you can take our room."

The plural possessive gave Nettie a pause and she got the feeling just from that, that Tony would never be able to revert to thinking of everything in singular. He truly would carry Ziva with him to his grave. It was her mission, however, to make sure he did not find that grave long before his time came. She followed him in but stopped him from putting the green case on the bed. "No, no, that is not mine, that is for you."

Tony eyed it curiously. "For me? Why?"

She ignored the question. "Here, let us put it in your spare room." It was empty except for the futon, with enough floor space to spread out her gifts. Sinking down to her knees, Nettie unzipped the lid and lifted it, smiling fondly at the contents. "Come and see." Tony joined her and she put her hand over his. "I went to Eli's house to find most of this. I was afraid that maybe he had disposed of everything already, but her room was much the way she left it." Nettie looked at him with teary eyes. "I have brought you Ziva's childhood, every treasure she kept. They belong to you."

Overwhelmed, Tony sifted through the full case. A worn brown bear lay trapped under a few children's books and he rescued it. "I guess this must be Moses."

Nettie wiped her eyes. "Did Ziva tell you about her old friend?"

He nodded. "And about the dolls Tali played with, and Ari's fear of butterflies. I almost feel like I know them."

Nettie reached in and pulled out a black album with silver stars scattered across the cover. She placed it on his lap. "This...this is your wife Anthony. I will leave you alone with her now." Putting a hand on his shoulder for support, she stood and returned to her room to unpack, leaving her things in neat piles on the floor rather than rearrange any drawers. She had a strong feeling that Tony wouldn't've touched any of Ziva's clothes yet, and maybe not for a long time.

Taking a seat on the futon, Tony leaned back and opened to the first page, discovering immediately that it wasn't just a photo album but a scrapbook of Ziva's life. Carefully printed Hebrew characters labeled each photo, but Nettie had been kind enough to provide translations on different coloured sticky notes. A tiny baby wrapped in a white blanket in her mother's arms. That same baby growing and smiling and staring in fascination at the camera. Laughing, learning to crawl, pulling herself up to stand with great concentration. Baby Ziva morphed into toddler Ziva and Moses began to appear, dragged by a leg or ear and almost always within reach.

Then she was starting school and standing prim and proper in her uniform. Laying on the grass with Tali, holding flowers and laughing. Running along the beach with curly hair flying behind her, bobbing in the water like a little mermaid, building castles in the sand. Ziva lighting Hanukkah candles, Ziva dancing on stage, Ziva on horseback looking as happy as could be. Ziva sitting under a tree, a pad of paper propped up on her knees and a pen in one hand, her whole focus on whatever she drew. There was Ziva with her siblings, the picture that had been in her apartment, Ziva and Aunt Nettie, Ziva and her mother. Then Rivka died and the light began to go out of her eyes.

Twelve became thirteen and Ziva's bat mitzvah, standing before the people at temple and reading her Torah portion. The pictures dwindled after that, without a mother's caring touch. Ziva training with Ari, Ziva in the IDF holding her weapon and looking far too young for such a task. Briefly happy moments reappeared with the completion of her two years in the army - the sisters walking together and dressing up and having fun, then Ziva and Ari in Paris. When Tali died the pictures stopped because she came to NCIS a year later, and before that was on a mission in the UK. But Tony would cherish the memories because they were all he had left.

Getting up, he went to find Ziva's aunt. Nettie was already in the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and familiarizing herself with what was available. Tony came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

She turned. "Everything there is yours Anthony. You are her husband, you have a right to them."

Tony swallowed and nodded, pulling her in for a quick hug, then glanced around. "Find anything interesting?"

Nettie opened the fridge door and swept her hand towards the contents. "I am finding that you desperately need someone to look after you young man. How long has it looked like that?"

He surveyed the carton of congealed milk, the limp vegetables, the lone container of orange juice, and moldy fruit on the bottom shelf and all of a sudden realized there was one place he forgot to clean. Tony rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh...about a week?"

She frowned, looking him over critically. "You've lost weight too, haven't you?"

Looking down at his stomach and picking at the material of his shirt, he shrugged. "Wouldn't notice if I had. I've barely even looked in the fridge this week Doda. I'm never hungry, so it doesn't matter anyways."

She crossed her arms. "It matters to me." Reaching into a bottom cupboard for a mixing bowl, Nettie began bustling around with a plan in mind. "Now go put on one of those movies Ziva was always talking about and relax. I am family, you needn't feel like you must entertain me. I am making pancakes for lunch and you will eat at least one Anthony," the woman insisted. "I will hear no excuses."

Tony stood watching her with eyebrows raised, wondering what exactly he'd gotten himself into. Obediently he chose a classic film he thought Nettie might enjoy, but when it failed to keep his attention Tony drifted back to the spare room to spend some more time going through the suitcase. At the bottom he found a cardboard portfolio full of drawings and paintings and sketches. Starting when she was too young for school and going right up to her early teens, each labeled with the date, her name, and exact age. Tony carefully studied one after another, talent obvious even in the early pictures. His favourite was a self-portrait of a thirteen year old Ziva and he was struck by the way she saw herself - serious, sad, and far too grown up for the young woman she should have had the chance to be.

Nettie finished the pancakes and went to get her nephew, stopping in the doorway to see Ziva's drawings scattered around him. She sank down onto the futon and picked up one of a bird in a fig tree. "How she loved to draw," she mused. "Ziva would sit somewhere for hours with her pencils beside her, waiting for exactly what she wanted to put on paper." Her fingers skimmed the faded colours. "Eli approved because it taught her to sit still and be patient, to blend into her surroundings, skills he felt would be useful later. And Rivka loved each picture because of the joy her daughter found in art."

She flipped through the photo album until she came to one of the two girls laying in the grass together, laughing. Nettie traced their faces almost reverently. "Everyone thought Tali was the creative one, that Ziva was too serious and too focused on duty to worry about those things. But I remember a little girl who laughed and danced and skipped and sang and played before her mother died and she was given so much responsibility that it drowned out the light in her eyes." She smiled sadly. "I still miss that little girl. I suppose I always will."

Tony looked back at the self-portrait. "I wonder why I never saw her draw. She had a life here, she was safe and happy I thought, away from him." His eyes were full of regret. "I would've supported anything she loved to do."

Nettie touched his cheek. "I know you would have achyan," she sighed. "I think in Ziva's mind someone had to give her permission to draw again. The same with dancing and riding and everything else she loved to do that Eli forbade because it interfered with her training." Her fingers curled into her palm. "Stupid, stupid man," she muttered. "I wonder if he will ever truly realize what he lost, sacrificing all his children to duty and country, being their director instead of their Abba."

Tears gathered in Nettie's eyes again. "Ari went to his grave hating the man who raised him not as a son but as a spy, and he died by his sister's hand, a death ordered by the father who should have loved and protected both of them. Sometimes I think Rivka died just to get away from Eli, except that she loved her children too much to ever leave them that way." She looked back at the picture of her nieces. "And Tali, little Tali killed by a suicide bomber when she should have been the one to grow up free and happy. Ziva, my darling Zivaleh, gone before her time and sent to death because of revenge, because Eli wanted her allegiance more than he cared for her life." She covered her face with her hands, sobs shaking her shoulders. "All of those precious children, lost."

Tony could hear the heavy grief in her voice and moved to sit beside her, putting his arms around her. Together they cried for a loss so deep they had yet to see the bottom of it, until Nettie pushed away and wiped her eyes. "The pancakes will be cold."

He held her hand gently. "They'll warm. It's okay to grieve for them Doda. I understand better than most right now."

The old woman blinked rapidly and kissed his cheek. "She was so lucky to have you, so lucky." Then she put her hands on her knees and stood. "Come, I promised to feed you and so I shall."

Tony followed her out to the kitchen and they warmed lunch in the toaster oven and sat to enjoy it. Despite the quality of the food, Tony could barely choke down one and Nettie picked at hers more than she ate. They did dishes together and put everything away, then Nettie drew a pad of paper and pen from her bag and began making a list. When Tony came back from the bathroom, he looked at her. "Can I make you tea or coffee?"

She looked up and smiled. "Tea would be lovely, thank you Anthony." He nodded and put the kettle on, going through the same familiar motions from when he used to do this for Ziva.

Tony opened the fridge and sighed. "Sorry Doda, I forgot about the milk. It's not really usable."

Nettie shook her head. "I can make do with just sugar, do not worry. But I think we best plan a shopping trip for the very near future."

"Yeah," he conceded a bit unwillingly.

She looked over her shoulder. "You do not sound convinced."

Tony dropped a teabag in the cup and poured the water. "Just a little bit like Ziva, or the regular kind of strong?"

"Somewhere in between." He nodded and she turned in her chair. "Tony."

A lovely China mug, a teaspoon and a small bowl of sugar appeared in front of her. "It's been three years since I've had to do that without Ziva and I just...don't want any more reminders that she's gone."

"So you will starve yourself instead?" Nettie queried, stirring two spoonfuls of sugar into her tea. "It has been two months, what exactly have you been living off of?"

Tony shrugged, tracing invisible patters on the table top. "Take out and beer for a long time," he admitted. "Some dinners with the team. Occasionally I'd stop at a convenience store for milk or juice or bread. Cereal isn't bad either." He met her eyes. "But that's when I thought she might come back, someday."

Nettie put her pen down. "Ziva is not coming back, but your life cannot end because of that." She reached across the table for his hand. "Please Tony, promise me you will not give up."

He sat up a bit. "All I can promise is to try."

Her smile was small. "Then I will take that, for now."

She returned her attention to her list and Tony watched the Hebrew characters take shape under her pen. "So what do you want to do today? The afternoon is wide open."

Nettie considered his question and tried to think of things that would keep his mind off Ziva, though she was well aware that the city probably held memories for him everywhere he looked. "I would like to see the Reflecting Pool and maybe an art museum, if you do not mind."

Tony chuckled. "For you Doda, I'm sure I can handle it."

When she finished writing, Nettie changed and the two went out on the town. The monuments she found impressive and Tony gladly shared with her the tidbits of history and trivia he knew. He spent an hour following her around the museum and listened to her knowledge on art and artifacts. Because the house was practically void of food, they went out for dinner and spent an enjoyable evening talking and even sometimes laughing together as Nettie shared some of the many stories she had about her beloved niece.

Once they returned to the house she was more than ready to take a shower and go to bed, the time difference between DC and Israel finally catching up to her as it was the middle of the night there. When she came out dressed in modest pyjamas and a satiny robe, Tony stood up from the couch, needing to tell her something. "Doda?" Nettie turned to look at him. "Uh, tomorrow is...Ziva's and my third anniversary and I'm really glad to have you here, but...I need some time alone." He pointed to the hooks by the door. "The keys with the Eiffel Tower charm are Ziva's, you can use them while you're here, for the house and her car. There's a map of DC in her glove compartment with a lot of her favourite places marked. I'm not sure when I'll be back and I don't want you to feel like I'm ditching you, but I just-"

She cut off his rambling. "It is alright Tony, I understand. Take as much time as you need. I've looked after myself for more than sixty years, I can handle another day."

His smile was faint. "Thanks, and goodnight."

"Laila tov," came her soft reply as the door closed.

Tony lay back on the couch and twisted around the ring that he'd put on the day Gibbs told them Ziva was gone. He'd have to take it off for work, but maybe one day keeping the secret wouldn't matter anymore and then Tony knew he would wear it until the day he died. Closing his eyes, he pictured Ziva's face and tried not to remember their last conversation. His heart was already broken enough without thinking of the way she'd looked at him when she said goodbye. It never should've ended that way, but once again Tony knew he'd found something he would never be able to change.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony was gone when Nettie woke up the next morning but she wasn't surprised. After a cup of tea and a leftover pancake, she dressed and wandered through the little house, gently touching her niece's things. In the office she came across a journal written in Hebrew and flipped through it, longing to hear Ziva's voice once more. An entry dated June 16, 2006 caught her eye and Nettie sat to read it.

_He told me he loves me today and I am terrified of what that means. We have been secretly dating for two months and I did not expect things to change so soon. Tony did not ask me to say it back, he just wanted me to know, which I think says a lot about how much he has grown up. We have known each other for over a year, and since his party in January he has worked very hard to earn my trust, to show me he could change. I know in my heart that I love him, but everyone I have said those words to has died and I cannot lose Tony too. No one has ever fought so hard for me, but he deserves much more than I can give. I am always so sure of myself, always confident, but today I do not know what to do. I wish I had the freedom to give him my heart._

Nettie's fingers caressed the words. "I am certain when you wrote this you had no idea you would marry him two months later little bird," she said quietly. "Someday when the pain is not so fresh I will translate your words for him. Tony deserves to know what was in your heart."

She returned the journal to its place on the shelf and went to find her running shoes. A day was best started off with a brisk walk and though the temperature in DC did not compare to Israel, it was still lovely and Nettie planned to enjoy it as long as she could. An hour later she returned to the house for her list and Ziva's car, determined to do her best to take care of Tony, for his wife's sake.

Tony, meanwhile, had driven out to Maryland, to the place he and Ziva went riding for their belated anniversary last year. Hoping being around horses would make him feel close to her, he went in and paid on a trial basis for their Equi-share program, allowing him use of a horse and time to spend with him or her without actually needing to own one. Having tried a few mounts over the times he and Ziva had come, Tony took a particular liking to a proud black stallion named Jax and asked for him. Luckily he was available and Tony made his way to the stable wearing an old shirt and comfortable jeans, and approached the stallion's stall slowly.

"Hey Jax," he murmured, smiling when the horse's head poked out the door. Tony scratched Jax's forehead and sighed. "I didn't bring your favourite girl today boy, so I hope you're okay hanging out with just me. I told Nettie I wanted to be alone, but I'm starting to think I was wrong." He opened the door and moved inside the stall, reaching into the bucket for a brush and curry comb. "Let's make your coat shine, okay? I think the work will do me good."

Tony eased the curry comb over the stallion's back in long even strokes the way both Kara and his wife had shown him. Then across his muscled shoulders and hindquarters, and down his firm sides before moving to the horse's right side to repeat the careful motions. "Ziva, she won't be coming back Jax. I know she loved it here and I was going to get her a membership for her birthday, so she could go out on Jules as much as she wanted." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry boy, I know you really liked her. But I'll try and make up for it, okay? I want to learn to love what she loved. Maybe that way I won't miss her quite so much." Two tears dropped onto Jax's polished coat and Tony wiped them away, turning his attention to untangling the stallion's mane and tail.

When Jax was as ready as could be, Tony led the horse out of his stall and clipped him into crossties, taking time to clean his hooves before beginning the saddling and bridling process. Finally he took the reins and walked Jax out to a secluded trail, mounting in one easy motion that came from the familiarity he was beginning to gain with the whole process. Together man and horse began their slow journey down the path. It was a wonderful sunny day. Birds chirped in the trees, squirrels chased each other up and down tree trunks, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. But the beauty was lost on Tony, who could only think of what it was like when Ziva rode by his side.

They spent a couple hours out in nature before returning to one of the empty training rings and practicing the gaits Tony had been learning. At last he led Jax back to the barn, untacked him, and patted his neck. "Thanks Jax. I really needed this today. I'll be back soon. Take good care of Jules, okay? She was Ziva's favourite." With one last scratch he offered the horse a treat and slowly walked back to his car.

The drive back to DC was too quiet even with the radio playing and Tony spent too much time feeling the loneliness creep back in. To suddenly be one half of a pair was a level of isolation he'd never known before, because before Ziva he never had even an inkling of what he was missing in life. And now he knew all too well. Eventually familiar streets began appearing and shortly after that Tony returned home to find Nettie half in and half out of the fridge, a bucket of soapy water on the floor by her feet, an array of bottles and containers on the counter, and plastic grocery bags littering all free space between them.

He dropped his keys in the dish by the door. "Do I want to know?"

Nettie looked up indignantly, a damp cloth in one hand. "It was becoming a health hazard."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I think I had a few days left before it warranted a call to the CDC." She went back to her project and he moved closer. "Need help?"

She turned back to him and took a good look, sniffing the air. "You smell like horse. I see Ziva has been rubbing off on you."

He shrugged. "I'm working on it. Sure you don't need me to play assistant?"

Nettie waved her hand towards the bathroom. "Go shower first, then we will talk."

Tony saluted. "Yes ma'am." With no reason to rush, he took a long time in the shower, washing away dust and sweat and letting the hot water soothe muscles that were bound to be aching tomorrow. Finally he came out dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, feeling almost relaxed.

In his absence Nettie had finished cleaning the fridge, put everything back where found it, and stored her purchases. Now she was busy at the stove, stirring chopped vegetables and bright red tomato sauce in a pan. Tony drew in a breath and his eyebrows rose as she cracked several eggs into the mixture before putting the lid on. "What's that?"

She smiled. "Shakshuka. Israeli comfort food. I think we could both use some."

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. "Ziva never made as much food from Israel as I expected. I think she was trying so hard to fit in here that she thought she had to forget where she grew up. But I was kinda hoping one day she'd share it with me."

Sadness hung heavy in Nettie's eyes. "I am sure she would have."

Tony snitched a piece of feta cheese from the bowl on the counter and sighed. "I wish now that I'd asked instead of just waiting for it to happen."

She laid her hand on his arm. "Unfortunately there will probably be a lot of moments like that, when you realize it is too late. But try not to let them become a burden. Focus instead on the time you had with Ziva, and the happy memories. The love you shared deserves that much." Then Nettie pinched him. "Stop eating my ingredients and chop that parsley finely please, the soup will not be long."

He shook his head and grabbed a knife. Nettie would've made a great mom.

Once the dish was ready, Nettie sprinkled the cheese and parsley over top. Tony got out bowls and ladled them each a liberal serving. The two sat at the table and Tony took his spoon, dipping it into the soup eagerly. At the first swallow his eyes widened. "Wow, that's really good." He coughed and reached for his water. "Got a bit of a kick to it."

She tried not to chuckle. "Ziva and I were the only ones who liked it extra spicy."

"Now I know where you get your fire from," he quipped.

Nettie pointed her spoon at him. "David women are born that way. I thought you would have learned that after three years."

A shadow crossed Tony's face at the casual way their anniversary was mentioned. Logically he knew that talking about Ziva and saying her name and trying to get used to the fact that memories were all he had left was healthy, but he didn't have to like it. Tony cleared his throat. "Ziva was often like that at work, you didn't cross her. But at home she was different - softer, vulnerable, more open. She let herself need me, she trusted me with her heart, she let me make her happy. That's one of the things I'm going to miss the most."

There was nothing to say in the wake of his confession, so Nettie simply put her hand over his briefly then returned to her meal. They were just two lonely people missing the light from their lives. It was comforting in a way to be together, but little comfort could be found when the loss was forever. The meal was finished in silence and after they washed up and stored the leftovers, Nettie shooed him out of the kitchen. "Tonight is the beginning of the Sabbath. I need to make challah bread and you will just be underfoot."

Tony found it a bit amusing to be kicked out of his own space and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling at loose ends and unable to settle on any indoor activity. He eventually made his way outside to weed the flower beds and do some watering. Out in the yard on his knees pulling little green things from the ground, Tony missed when Ziva would sit beside him, laughing every time he accidentally uprooted a plant instead of a weed, pushing her hair back from her face when the wind blew it around, swatting at flies and sometimes leaving a streak of dirt on her cheek.

While he was out there Tony surveyed the yard with a critical eye and realized the grass was long overdue for some maintenance. He got the push mower from the garage and started it up, shaking his head when he realized he'd probably have to shower again by the time he finished. But it felt good to work and Tony was grateful for anything that distracted him from missing Ziva, even for a little while.

The sun was getting low in the sky when he finished up and washed his hands with the hose before going back inside. Taking in the laden counter, Tony whistled. "You've been busy."

She fluttered her hands. "I cannot cook tomorrow. I do not want you to go hungry."

He could've told her it was a waste of time, but she was trying so hard and he didn't have the heart to rain on her parade. "Smells great," Tony said instead, pointing to one of the braided golden loaves cooling on a wire rack. "Can I have a piece now?"

Nettie smiled indulgently and tore off a small part of the end for him, then returned to her preparations. Noting Tony's curiosity, she explained the different foods. "There is a casserole in the oven for tonight's meal. Do you have candles?" Tony nodded, remembering the few times Ziva had performed the ritual. "I am preparing cholet, a slow cooked stew we will have for lunch tomorrow. Breakfast will be cold cereal for me, but you may have what you like. And I am planning something light for the evening meal." She stopped cutting for a moment and tilted her head. "Would you like to go to temple with me?"

Tony shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I wouldn't feel right about it. I don't know what to think about God right now. I'd be happy to give you a ride though."

Nettie nodded. "That would be fine, thank you."

He glanced around. "Need any help?"

She looked him up and down. "Put on something without grass stains and I am sure I can find a job for you to do."

Tony rolled his eyes but took a quick shower, dressed in clean clothes, and became her sous chef until the light began to fade. Nettie rushed him through the rest of the clean up and then lit the candles, covering her eyes to say the blessing. Tony dished up the casserole and they sat to enjoy it. Despite her hopes, Nettie watched Tony pick at the food for too long before he pushed it away.

"Thanks for all your hard work Doda. It's great, really. But I'm pretty bushed, so I think I'll turn in. What time do we leave tomorrow?"

"Eight-thirty," she answered quietly, watching him go to the spare room. Nettie sighed. "I fear he is lost without you Zivaleh. My love alone may not be enough." Eventually she got up to store the rest of the casserole in the fridge and began her bedtime preparations. She could hear Tony moving restlessly through the house as she sat in bed reading the Torah and doubted he would be able to settle yet.

Once Nettie was in bed Tony returned to the livingroom and put on a black and white movie he and Ziva liked to watch - _It Happened One Night_. With a drink in one hand and a collection of letters she's given him in the other, Tony lounged on the couch, an aching loneliness invading his very spirit. Feeling like a complete fool, he finally got up and went to the spare room, coming back with Ziva's old bear Moses. Stretching out, he tucked the worn stuffed animal under one arm and slowly drifted into sleep.

**NCIS**

While Nettie was at her service Saturday morning, Tony drove around aimlessly for awhile, finally ending up at a lovely old graveyard. A wrought iron fence bordered the land, paved paths ran through it and large trees provided shade and a calming ambiance. He parked and got out, slipping his hands in his pockets as he started walking. Tony supposed he'd picked up the habit from Abby, who found cemeteries peaceful and liked to wander through reading the inscriptions on the headstones.

The paths ran for miles through the sprawling cemetery and with three hours to kill Tony was of a mind to walk them all. Eventually he came to a sheltered corner where a bench was set against a half stone wall, the trees and ivy creating a secluded place to rest. He stopped there and pulled a picture from his pocket. "I really wish you were here right now Ziva. Having your aunt around is great. She's an amazing old lady and I love her like she was my own family. But I never thought I'd be doing this on my own."

Tony closed his eyes. "I just wish I'd gotten the chance to say 'I'm sorry'. I wish our last moments together hadn't been so jagged and painful. I wish...I wish you'd told me you loved me just one more time." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I wish I didn't have to talk to a photo when all I want is my wife." He swallowed hard, his throat tight and sore, but there were no more words for the anguish in his soul.

He was in a somber mood when he returned to pick Nettie up and even though Tony forced himself to have a few bites of the stew that was ready when they got back, everything seemed dull and flat, without taste or colour or purpose or meaning. He excused himself to lay down once he finished and Nettie watched him go with a sinking heart. Tony was falling into a darkness that she had no idea how to pull him out of.

Nettie also rested that afternoon, and she insisted Tony try some of his sabich, an egg sandwich widely enjoyed in Israel, for supper before she lit candles and recited the blessing that concluded Shabbat forty minutes after sunset. Then she found her nephew, again in the spare room poring over the contents of the suitcase - childhood toys and treasures, school work, pictures with friends and on vacation - like he couldn't get enough. One of his favourite things was a small quilt with a note pinned to it explaining that Rivka had made it out of pieces from Ziva's baby, toddler, and children's clothes, clearly a labour of love with Ziva's name stitched in Hebrew characters in one corner.

"Anthony."

He looked up. "Yeah?"

She held out a hand. "Come and watch a movie with me. Ziva said you always made popcorn and I happen to love popcorn. Please?"

Tony saw in her eyes what she was trying to do, smooth over the memories he shared with Ziva, how he was her personal mission now, and nodded once. "Sure."

Several minutes later hot buttered popcorn sat in a bowl between them and the opening credits of _Sound of Music_ began to play. He glanced towards Nettie and shrugged at her surprise. "I've always hated this movie, but I'd watch it with her any time she asked. I guess I feel like I owe it to Ziva to try and appreciate it, if nothing else."

Nettie took hold of his hand. "You are a good man Anthony and she loved you. Hold onto that when things are dark."

Tony squeezed her fingers. "Yeah, I'll try." Then he turned his attention to the screen and a bunch of nuns singing about a problem like Maria.


	5. Chapter 5

The days of the following week passed quickly as Tony played tour guide to show Nettie around DC. He even took her out to Maryland to meet the horse Ziva loved to ride and she seemed to find the same comfort he did in spending time with the gentle animals. Before he knew it Wednesday had arrived, two weeks since he found out Ziva was dead. A phone call came that morning and Tony left Nettie working on homemade pitas and white bean hummus to go back to the photography shop and pick up his plaque. It came out better than he'd expected, with an extra coating to protect it from the weather. Holding it carefully, Tony drove to Mr. Farber's store and brought it in, along with a flatish oval rock from their backyard.

Benjamin looked up when he came in and smiled briefly, reaching under the counter for something wrapped in a soft cloth. He unfolded it and handed the small piece of metal to Tony. "My best work, I assure you Mr. DiNozzo."

Tony ran his fingers slowly over the raised letters and nodded. "It's beautiful, thank you."

He held out his hand for the plaque. "Come back in two hours and I will have it mounted for you and secured to the stone."

Tony did as asked, a bit reluctant to part with the picture of his wife, and swallowed. "Thank."

There was no point in going home and coming back, so he went to the Lincoln Memorial and sat on the steps with elbows on his knees, people watching and trying not to think about anything at all. His watch beeped with a warning before he realized time was up and Tony made the short drive back to Chosen Inspirations to pick up the memorial. He paid for it and shook Benjamin's hand. "Thank you."

The craftsman studied his customer. "She was a lucky woman to be loved so much. Honour her now with how you spend the rest of your days."

Tony sighed. "I'm sure going to try."

He made one stop before driving home slowly, parking the car and carrying the stone to the backyard. There, beneath the tree and surrounded by the flowers she loved, Tony placed his wife's tombstone, or at least, the closest she would get to one. He looked at it for a long moment before leaning down to kiss her face and leaving to get the rest. Using a small garden trowel, Tony dug a hole in front of the stone and buried a sturdy metal vase halfway down in the dirt. He reached for the small bouquet of daffodils he'd picked up, poured half a bottle of water down the tube to keep them fresh, and put them in gently. Wiping his hands on his pants, Tony sat back and felt a bit of peace. Now, at least, he had a place to mourn her, a place to be with her, a place to remember everything he never wanted to forget.

Pulling out a small piece of paper, he slid it into the clear sealed box attached to the stone. "I never got to finish those ten thousand reasons while you could still hear them babe, but I'll do my best now." Tony rubbed his eyes, then kissed his fingers and pressed them to Ziva's smiling mouth. "I love you honey, I always will." It was hard to leave, but he made himself get up and go inside to see what Nettie had made for lunch. She was trying so hard to help, the least he could do was pretend she actually was.

From her place by the sliding doors in the office, Nettie watched the whole scene, her fingers going to the Star of David necklace she wore. "Oh my dear one, you truly were half of two different hearts that became one. I do not know what happens to a person who has lost their soulmate. No force in the world can take away the yearning that will always be with him for what was lost."

They sat down together to enjoy the chicken shawarma salad she'd prepared and after several moments Nettie cleared her throat to get his attention. "So, you must go back to work tomorrow."

Tony rubbed his face and sighed heavily. "Yeah."

She lifted an eyebrow. "How do you feel about that?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "I guess it'll be good to do something again instead of sitting here all day feeling sorry for myself, but no one there will understand what it's like inside my heart, because they don't really know what Ziva was to me."

Nettie's forehead furrowed. "Should you tell them?"

Tony shook his head. "Zi and I agreed to keep the secret. We never discussed how or when it would come out. It doesn't feel right to tell now, considering what we both went through to make sure the truth stayed hidden."

She nodded. "Do you feel ready?"

He looked up. "To face the world without her? No. But seeing as I don't have a choice, I'll just have to get used to it. I don't really want everything to go back to normal because I'm afraid that means I'm moving on. I just...don't know what I should be feeling anymore."

Nettie's expression softened. "You will figure it out, one day at a time. It will not be easy, but you are not alone Tony, do not feel as if you have to be."

Tony stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. "Thanks."

Thursday dawned bright and sunny and Tony began the once familiar and now almost foreign process of getting ready for work. When he came out of the bathroom - showered, shaved, hair done, and dressed in a grey suit - Nettie smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "I am proud of you."

He nodded and took the brown paper bag she handed him containing his lunch, hugging her briefly. "Don't wait up if I'm late. It's not unusual to stay past eight or nine at night."

"Very well. There will be supper in the fridge for you."

Tony returned the gesture by kissing her cheek. "You're the best Doda. See you later."

Spotting something, she called him back. "Anthony." He turned and her expression was apologetic. "Your ring."

He stared down at the heavy gold band adorning his left ring finger. "Oh yeah."

Nettie held out one hand. "I will keep it safe for you."

After a long moment Tony slowly twisted it off and dropped the circle in her palm. "Leave it by her picture, please."

He strode out and Nettie waited until he pulled out of the driveway before getting ready to leave on her walk. Life had to start again sometime, but she had her doubts about whether Tony would ever be ready.

**NCIS**

Walking into the office after two weeks away felt strange, the hustle and bustle of the place almost too much when it had been so quiet lately. Tony was, but shouldn't've been, surprised when he got an armful of anxious Abby and was suddenly squeezed in the tightest hug he could remember getting as her words flowed a mile a minute, like usual. "Tony! I was so worried and you never answered your phone, why didn't you answer your phone? And you left without saying goodbye and Gibbs wouldn't tell me when you were coming back. I went to your apartment and I waited and waited but your car wasn't there and I couldn't find you." She took a breath finally and bit her lip. "I'm so happy to see you."

He forced a ghost of a smile and disengaged her arms. "Me too Abs." Tony left her standing in the hall between the bullpen and the elevator, looking at Gibbs for an explanation while her lip quivered as if she might burst into tears at any second. McGee was the one to go over and talk to her quietly, encouraging her to go back down to the lab and give Tony some space. When Tim returned to his desk Tony could feel the heavy stares on him, but ignored the bullpen's other occupants and opened one of the folders in the pile by his phone. Now was as good a time as any to start catching up. Gibbs watched the proceedings with a critical eye, but reserved judgement. Still, when half the day had gone by and his senior field agent still hadn't made a single peep, he wondered who this imposter was that had taken Tony's place.

A call came in later that afternoon and when Gibbs gave the order to gear up, Tony reached for his top left desk drawer automatically, but his hand hesitated over his gun, the trembling in it visible. Swallowing, he stood and slid badge and sidearm and newly charged phone into place and grabbed his backpack. But on the way by Gibbs looked at him. "Sidelines DiNozzo." He didn't know yet if the man could be trusted with normal field work. His head clearly wasn't back in the game.

Tony sighed and stared after his boss, joining the remainder of the team with slow steps. A glance over his shoulder showed Director Vance watching from the catwalk, a toothpick in place and a penetrating stare that left him ill at ease. Thankfully the case wasn't urgent and there was no need for Tony to stay with the body while Gibbs and McGee chased suspects. Back at NCIS while they were waiting on autopsy results from Ducky, Gibbs motioned for Tony to follow him to the elevator. Prepared for a lecture, Tony steeled himself against the switch getting thrown and was puzzled when they made it all the way to Basement Level Four before the car stopped.

Gibbs stepped out and Tony frowned. "Boss?"

He flicked a finger at the younger man. "With me."

Obediently Tony followed the team leader to the firing range. Gibbs dropped a handful of extra clips at one station and grabbed a pair of earmuffs. He pointed at the paper target at the other end of the long room. "You shoot until I'm satisfied."

Reluctantly Tony surveyed the set up and slowly pulled his gun from the holster. Swallowing, he put on the ear protection and took his stance. The first few shots were hesitant, almost unsure, but gradually his confidence came back, his groupings became tighter instead of scattered, and his focus sharpened. Partway though it came to Tony that though he'd spent the better part of two weeks crying over the loss of his wife, it never once occurred to him to go to the gym or do some sparring or something the might help release the emotions swirling around inside.

By the sixth clip it was no longer about practice, but about everything he'd lost. At clip seven Tony's jaw was clenched, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. Halfway through clip eight he lost it, jamming the safety on his gun before throwing it down on the counter and screaming. The heart wrenching sound ended in sobs and before Tony knew it he was standing in the middle of the room, crying. Acutely embarrassed to have had an audience - especially his boss - for the breakdown, he pulled himself together as quickly as possible and dragged a sleeve across his wet cheeks.

Tony cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact while he broke Rule #6. "Uh...sorry about that Boss."

Gibbs' hand came down heavily on his shoulder, his quiet words shocking the agent into silence. "I felt the same way when Jenny died."

Working to keep his jaw from dropping, Tony swallowed. "Does it ever get better?"

The older man sighed. "It gets less. It never gets better."

Tony nodded slowly, drawing a shuddering breath. "So now what?"

Gibbs stared hard at him. "You put one foot in front of the other and keep going. And get your head on right because life doesn't stop just because it hurts."

The thought of doing that every day, continuing to breathe and live and go about his every day activities without Ziva by his side was enough to leave Tony feeling claustrophobic. But because Gibbs was right and at the moment he had no choice, the senior field agent straightened his shoulders and looked up. "Okay."

Perhaps there was a hint of pride shining in the team leader's eyes when he pointed Tony back to his station. "One more clip, then you've got paperwork to do."

The barest trace of a smile wafted over Tony's lips as he took up position again. "On it Boss."

**NCIS**

After her walk and getting ready for the day, Nettie spent a good portion of the afternoon working to make shepherd's pie while she listened to Israeli news on Ziva's computer. The preparations took a decent amount of time and even though it was nearing the end of summer, she was determined to fill Tony with as much comfort food as she could. And, knowing his affinity for pasta, the older woman was already planning lasagna for early next week.

When supper was in the oven and all the dishes dried and put away, Nettie ventured out to the backyard to spend some time with her niece. Sitting on the soft grass, she wove a daisy chain and spoke to Ziva in the melodic language she was born to. After awhile she stopped and took a good look at the plaque and stone, draping the flower necklace over it and fingering the soft petals of Tony's daffodils. "He has made you a beautiful memorial Zivaleh. I think you would be proud of the way he is trying to honour your love."

The small plastic box caught her eye and she reached inside for the piece of paper. Nettie opened it before even thinking that she might be invading her nephew's privacy. What she read there brought tears to her eyes. _Reason #568 - I married you because of the way your skin feels next to mine when we're almost asleep and you haven't quite gotten comfortable, but when I press in close and kiss your neck you totally relax, like you only just realized it's okay to feel safe here. I love you because you make me feel like the luckiest man alive._

None of what he had written was in past tense, but present, as if Ziva might return at any moment and find his words to read. Refolding the paper, Nettie returned it to the box and hurried inside on the pretense of checking the progress of the food. She would stay as long as she could, but Nettie feared for Tony's state of mind the first time he was all alone again. The dangerous part about living in the past was that it often looked more appealing than today.

**NCIS**

It was after nine pm when Tony finally let himself into the dark house. Scanning the room out of a habit developed after the time he came home to find Ziva sitting in the dark cleaning her gun, (that was the night of one of their first fights but it also led to a glimpse of how deep the well of Ziva's forgiveness could be. He only wished he could've had the chance to experience it one more time for the most recent hurt), he found that all was quiet in their little house. A note on the counter from Nettie stated that supper was in the fridge and Tony was grateful that she was already in bed, because he didn't feel much like eating anyway.

He changed clothes and brushed his teeth and was heading back into the spare room when the other bedroom door opened and Nettie came out wrapped in her burgundy satin robe. "Tony?"

The man winced and kept this voice just above a whisper. "Sorry Doda, I didn't mean to wake you."

She shrugged. "I was listening for the door. How was it?"

Tony sighed. "Good as could be expected, I guess."

Nettie tilted her head to the side, a long gray braid falling over her shoulder. "What does that mean?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, his one tell about uncomfortable subjects. "I, uh, lost it a bit with Gibbs. Made a fool out of myself crying. But strangely enough I think I feel better for it." Tony twisted his watch around. "I'm late because Gibbs is trying to keep me busy. He knows what this kind of grief is like - he's lost a wife and a partner in two different women. I guess I'm grateful that he cares enough to be concerned."

She smiled. "He is a good man, that I could tell from the way Ziva talked about him. It takes someone special to earn her admiration." Nettie glanced towards the kitchen. "Did you eat?"

The guilt was written all over his face. "I'm more tired than hungry Doda. I'll take it for lunch tomorrow, okay?" He hoped she didn't ask about today's lunch. It had gone to a homeless man standing on a corner near the Navy Yard who needed it more than Tony did.

Understanding stirred in her eyes. "Then I will wish you goodnight. Laila tov motek."

Tony kissed her cheek. "Buona notte Doda. Thanks for being here."

She nodded and returned to her room, leaving Tony to breathe a sigh of relief. Feeling a little better did not mean he was instantly ready for things to return to normal. Slow, slow was good, and if he ever did feel like living again, that was how it would happen.


	6. Chapter 6

The first week back passed slowly, filled with calls and cases and the impressive home cooking Nettie continued to do her best to entice his appetite with. Tony worked every day but Sunday and was glad because being at the office kept his mind occupied, and as long as he didn't look across the bullpen at the empty desk, he could almost pretend nothing had changed. The time he did have off he spent with Nettie - watching movies, helping prepare food, going for walks, gardening, and talking about Ziva. He enjoyed having his wife's aunt around, but as one week of her visit slipped into two, he began to feel that her time with him was drawing to a close. His suspicions were confirmed on Thursday evening when she turned to him at dinner.

"I am very glad I came achyan, but I think it is time I return home."

His heart ached at the words and he leaned forward to put his hand over hers. "I understand Doda. Having you here has been good for me, for both of us I think, but I need to stand on my own sometime."

Nettie tried to smile. "I will miss you motek. You will call me sometimes, yes?"

Tony nodded. "Absolutely. And if you ever want to come back, you'll always have a place here."

"Thank you."

They were quieter than usual that night, and two days later he drove her to the airport for an early morning flight before going into work. At the gate Nettie reached up to put her hands on his cheeks, bringing him down to kiss first one side than the other. "Be brave achyan," she whispered. "I love you."

He swallowed and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. "I love you too. Have a safe trip."

Nettie waved once more before she disappeared beyond his sight. "Shalom."

Then she was gone and Tony heaved a sigh. He was alone for the first time in two weeks. At work a change was noticeable, he was quiet and even more introspective than before, his eyes lingering on the empty desk across the way whenever he thought no one else was watching. After lunch Gibbs slowly climbed the stairs and stood beside Leon on the catwalk where he was surveying activity in the bullpen. They watched in silence for awhile before Vance removed his toothpick and pointed at Tony.

"Seems to me Gibbs that your boy is grieving for far more than just a partner."

Gibbs sighed and leaned his forearms on the railing. "He is."

Leon looked at him in surprise. "I thought you said they never-"

A shake of the silver head cut him off. "They didn't. And maybe that's the problem." He fixed his eyes on the studious but very deep within himself senior field agent. "DiNozzo's grieving for everything they never were. Maybe they could've had something, maybe not. But the hardest part is knowing that he'll never know."

The director straightened. "Sounds like personal experience talking to me." He gave the agent another look. "If I were you Gibbs, I'd be awfully careful about letting him take his gun home at night. I've seen that expression in a man's eyes before. Lives have been ended for far less than what Tony's facing."

Gibbs' gaze sharpened. "I know my team Leon. Tony may have lost his center, but he wouldn't do that."

Vance quirked an eyebrow and turned away. "I hope you're right."

Gibbs slid his hands in his pockets and sighed heavily. "Yeah," he said under his breath, "me too."

Going home that night was extra hard for Tony, facing the darkness and silence alone. A movie wasn't enough to drown out the person who was missing, so Tony went to the backyard and knelt in the dew soaked grass. "Well Zi, it's only me now. I haven't been this alone in a long time and it's extra quiet without the hope that you'd change your mind and come back someday." He took another slip of paper from his wallet and added it to the slowly growing collection in the little clear box. "Reason #572 - I love you because when you're here you make me feel like more than me. I'm a person and not just a shadow. I miss that a lot."

His cellphone rang, shattering the relative peace of the backyard, and he answered after only a few shrill notes. "DiNozzo."

"Tony?" came a lively female voice. "You left before I could ask - do you want to get a drink with McGee and me?"

He rubbed tired eyes. "No thanks." Managing at work was one thing, after hours was a totally different story.

But she didn't give up that easily. "Please Tony? We hardly ever hang out anymore, and I miss you. Please say yes? McGee wants you to come too, don't you McGee? It's just not the same with only two. You have to come!"

Tony's patience was at its limit and the words came out harshly. "I said no. Just leave me alone Abby." He snapped the phone closed, cutting off her hurt cry of 'Tony!' and massaged his forehead. "I better go to bed. Goodnight honey. I hope wherever you are that you finally have the peace you never had here." Half an hour later, for the first time in two weeks, Tony crawled between the freshly changed sheets on their bed and lay down facing Ziva's side. The emptiness was more than he could take and once more Anthony DiNozzo cried himself to sleep.

**NCIS**

Tony put up with the relative normalcy of work with the cases and crime scenes and barked orders of 'Grab your gear' until the phrase rang in his head like a nightmare he couldn't shake. Everything was a blur. He wasn't taking anything in, observing life instead of living it. Tony felt like he was watching the world go by without him. He couldn't remember what it was like to feel or experience, there was just nothing. After two weeks he finally had enough and stood, defiant in the place of expected compliancy.

"No."

Gibbs stopped mid-stride and stared at him. "No?"

Feeling bolder by the minute, Tony squared his shoulders. "We can't let him get away with it Boss. He killed one of ours, he messed with our team. Saleem Ulman's got to be stopped before one more person dies."

Intrigued to see conviction in his eyes for the first time in a month, Gibbs nodded once. "Make your case."

So he did. For ten days Tony and Abby and McGee worked a ridiculous amount of overtime, almost around the clock sometimes, trying to figure out how to track Saleem's movements. Finally they found it, the missing piece. When Tony took charge of walking through their findings for the director, he felt alive for the first time since the news of the Damocles. At last he had something to hold onto, a mission to take charge of. But all his hopes burst like a lead balloon when Vance shook his head and told them that, under the circumstances, Caf-Pow wasn't good enough evidence to authorize an op.

Tony stormed out of MTAC, his blood boiling. Why was everyone determined to keep him from doing what he needed to do for Ziva? Why couldn't anyone see what this meant to him, this one last chance to prove his love? He got as far as the end of the hall before Gibbs caught up with him. "Hey." Tony was pacing agitatedly, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to see through the haze of red. "Hey!" Gibbs barked again.

Out of patience, out of respect, Tony snapped at him. "What?"

Gibbs looked at his agent. "That is?"

He clenched his jaw. "Yeah. What else is there?" Closing his eyes, Tony swallowed, knowing that he'd failed his wife again - first by letting her stay in Israel where it wasn't safe, and now by being unable to punish the man responsible for her death.

Gibbs remained deliberately calm to counteract the ticking time bomb that was the man in front of him. "Well," he drawled, "maybe we send a couple agents to the region."

Tony sighed, giving up. "What for?"

The expression he got told him to pay close attention. "Gather some intel. Put some eyes on the target. Change the circumstance."

"Change...the circumstances," Tony repeated slowly and a light dawned. His mood changed on a dime. "You can sell that to Vance?"

Gibbs nodded. "Oh yeah. Strictly investigative, of course. Know anyone who might be interested?"

A glimmer of a smile touched Tony's mouth. "I volunteer myself and Special Agent McGee for the secret fact finding mission sir!" He raised an eyebrow at Gibbs. "What are you going to do?"

Gibbs shook his head. "You don't want to know." It was better not to share information. What he didn't know, he couldn't tell anybody no matter how persuasively they asked.

**NCIS**

That Sunday Tony quietly celebrated his thirty-seventh birthday out in the yard sitting beside his wife's memorial. He tore a couple blades of grass from the ground and ripped them into tiny pieces, sighing. "Two birthdays in a row that I haven't spent with you Zi. I liked our first year better, when you surprised me with a cupcake after I got out of the shower. Although," Tony gave her picture a half-grin, "you kissing the icing off my lips was probably my favourite part." He traced her mouth, caressed her cheek and hair.

"I miss that, just the simple feel of your lips on mine, how soft your hair is, your warm skin under my hands." He trailed off. "Who would've thought I'd be a widower before I even turned forty?" Tony shook his head. "I'm not prepared for a life without you Ziva, to spend the next fifty years alone and missing you and always wanting what was." He took a deep breath. "So I'm not gonna do it. I'm not going to spend it at all. That is the end of what I can handle sweetheart, and I'm sorry if you're disappointed, but I'm not strong enough to keep going without you."

He let the grass bits fall through his fingers. "The mission got approved Zi, and we're gonna get the dirtbag who cost you and I the life we should've had together. And after that, after he's dead...I'm not going to move if one of those terrorists wants to shoot me. Because being dead, a forever of nothingness, has got to be better than being alive without you." Tony kissed his fingers and pressed them to her face. "I love you honey. As your partner my promise was always your life over mine, if that's what it took. I know it's too little, too late, but I'm keeping it now. Goodbye beautiful."

With that Tony got up and went in the house, settling himself at Ziva's desk and pulling out a sheet of the mint green stationery she favoured. _Dear Aunt Nettie_, he began,_ by the time you read this I'll be in Africa and I won't be coming back. _He drew a shaky breath. _We found out what Ziva's mission was and I'm going there to finish it. When the guy responsible for her death lies lifeless in the desert sun, my part will be over and getting killed in the crossfire between sides looks a whole lot less cowardly than me putting a gun to my head or swallowing a bottle of sleeping pills. _Tony knew in his heart that Nettie would blame herself, that she would grieve for him with the same love she spent on Ziva, but he was just done. _I'm sorry Doda, for giving you one more loss. I tried, I really tried, but it's been a month and a half and I just can't do this without her any more. I'm sorry. I love you. Thank you for everything. Always - Tony._

He didn't want to be a coward, but it was every form of spinelessness to say goodbye in a letter so he wouldn't have to face her reaction. And yet, Tony couldn't tell her any other way. He folded it in thirds and got out Ziva's address book to make sure he wrote it right. The letter was mailed Monday and by Thursday three agents were on board a military aircraft bound for Somalia. It was time for this to end.


	7. Author's Note

A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry to do this here, but I didn't know a better way to make sure you all saw it. I wasn't thinking when I posted the first chapter of **When the World Stopped Turning** and forgot to add that I won't be able to post Chapter 1 of Part 4 until next Saturday (May 11) at the earliest. I'm still writing the chapter, it's over 60 notebook pages now and I wouldn't be surprised if it ended up at as many words as WTWST. If that's the case, I'll probably post it in two parts.

I guess I'm a little nervous about Truth or Consequences because as anyone who read the series will remember, I kind of did Somalia to death in RofS and I don't want this to be a repeat. It can't be, of course, because T&Z are different people in this story, but I'm doing my best to make what I do write original. I like to think of it this way - in RofS I wrote a story about their healing, in MIT I'll be working their healing into the story.

Anyhow, I also wanted to say thank you so much! The response to this story has totally floored me. I never expected to get so many reviews. You guys are all amazing and I'm so thankful to have you on this journey with me. I know it's hard to wait, I don't like taking time off either, but please be patient with me as I work through this next part of the story. Just as a warning, since I'm not writing ahead in this season I may have to drop back to posting once a week for awhile. Real life just doesn't leave me as much time to write as I would like, though I am thankful for the time I do have.

So thank you to everyone reading. I'll reply to reviews just as soon as I get a chance. And I can't wait to share this next part with you - Season 7: A Season of Healing. Have a great week everyone! Much love ~Aliyah


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